


Simarkus Week: Flowers

by MasterD1mwitt



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Drugs, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, One Shot, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22775818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterD1mwitt/pseuds/MasterD1mwitt
Summary: I wrote this for day two of Simarkus week for the prompt "flowers". A lonely softboy Simon summons Markus for intimacy whenever he needs a fix of comfort, and under the influence wishes that they were more.
Relationships: Markus & Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human)
Kudos: 29





	Simarkus Week: Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the song "Lady Of The Flowers" by Placebo, so the tie in to flowers may not be as overt as it should be. Still, I hope you enjoy!

Simon stared out the window of his apartment, sighing as the person he was waiting for was not to be seen in the waning crowd. Once again he checked the time on his phone; only two minutes had passed since the last. Markus often ran a little late because of his job, but never before by almost an hour. The need between his thighs had been aching since he woke up and no amount of self care had been able to soothe it away. Resting his head on his arms, Simon sighed once more and watched the eight o'clock traffic while waiting for his healer.

Not many people were still on the sidewalk at this hour, as they would rather be at home eating dinner as the sun rested on the horizon. People were so disinteresting and wrapped up in their own egos anyway, so often Simon in his many moments of boredom would look between their feet, at the dainty little flowers growing in the cracks in the pavement. Some may have considered it akin to watching paint dry, but there was something self-serving in seeing feeble buds grow into white or yellow blossoms. Something so soft able to survive in such a cold, hard environment, persevere in the face of urban conformity.

Eventually, Simon spotted a familiar bald head come out of a car in the parking lot, and he was stirred out of his reverie as he excitedly wriggled out of his seat. Moments later, and Markus didn't have the time to knock on Simon's door as the latter swung it open. "Did you miss me?" Markus chuckled at the other's overenthusiasm.

"Very much," Simon replied in a sultry, submissive tone, unable to stand still. He then placed a hand on one of Markus's toned arms to guide him through the door, using it as an excuse to feel the man's muscles, and crooned, "Come inside baby, I'm hungry." From the box in his other hand, Simon could tell Markus had brought over a pizza from his job again, an offering that would come in handy after their activities. In fact, Markus still smelled like the pizzas he'd been making all day, and his cologne from the morning underneath that, an intoxicating mix that Simon had come to attribute as the man's musk as he swooned in his spot. Now that his door was shut and locked, they were free to begin their ritual.

First was the apology. "I'm sorry for taking so long," Markus murmured in between quick kisses, "it was slow today, but my boss wanted me to help clean up before leaving early." That must have explained the grime on his shoes, which he usually took great care of. After they were kicked off and both men stood in their socks, the pizza box was set on the coffee table to be forgotten about for the moment, and the couple fell on the couch to explore each other's bodies. No words were ever required at this part, when they could easily express their desire though desperate kisses and well placed fondling. In only a sweater and boxer briefs, it was easy to show how hard he was, how eager he was to be deflowered. Sometimes they rushed through their fumbling to the main course, other times, such as this time, they paused as Markus pulled out a baggie, his second offering, and Simon proquired his paraphernalia.

It was a nice way of taking the edge off their respective days at work, and bonding through the shared euphoria. Simon's lungs burned with the familiar heavy lightness as he and Markus took turns taking practiced puffs from his bowl, and with a giggly grin fell on top of the other to unbutton his sinfully form fitting jeans. "It should be illegal for you to be this fucking hot," Simon crooned; marijuana brought out his physically affectionate, lascivious side.

When the high wore off was usually when Markus left, and all Simon could do was nibble on lukewarm slices of pizza to fill the impending void. Hair askew, he reeked of sex and weed, and would need to clean up soon before his roommate got home. Too many times before the other had caught him still very naked and very stoned in full view, and chewed him out for his indecency. Whatever. The guy was a buzzkill who Simon tried to avoid hanging out with anyway. After putting on his clothes and making a half assed attempt to tidy the living room up, Simon shoved the empty pizza box into the garbage can, last slice in hand as he retreated to his room.

Rubbing his distended belly absentmindedly, Simon lay in bed as he surfed mindlessly on his phone, eventually hopping on Grindr to message Markus. He ignored the pings of other people's messages in his inbox as he made sure, as always, the other man made it home safe, and as always, he had. Still, Simon cared enough about the man he'd summon for sex sessions to make sure every time; there was something different about Markus than all the other man Simon used to meet up with for quick encounters. Could almost consider them friends, as thoroughly as he enjoyed their non sexual conversations.

He knew that Markus had great aspirations for life, wanted to one day work in a restaurant more elevated than the mom and pop pizzeria he was currently employed at. The young man was a visionary, and Simon had a few times been graced with glimpses of the other's artistic vision. Painting was another passion, that he occasionally monetized when work was slow. Briefly Simon wondered if he had any talents he could take advantage of, but he was fairly average in every aspect.

He wasn't particularly muscular nor petite, had never been notably bad at anything, but neither had he ever stood out in his life. As a child he faded into the background enough to avoid most of the schoolyard bullying, but as a result he never had any friends to play with. He'd often do as he did now as a young adult, sit at the edge of the playground and look at all the flowers.

Many of his young male peers would scorn at the demure plants, stomp them to a pulp out of morbid curiosity and an overexaggerated, fragile masculinity, and when they grew up paid them casual contempt. Pretty flowers were for girls, and ugly flowers were weeds, and weeds were eyesores that needed to be destroyed. The Flowers growing out of the pavement were weeds, but Simon didn't care one bit about their label. He admired their tenacity to bounce back from being poisoned or plucked, their ability to return from brutal winters and survive intense droughts. If they could make it, so could he.

Working at his local mall paid well for an entry level job; Simon had dreams of saving up for college, but after his parents cut him off due to discovering his sexuality and disagreeing with his "lifestyle", he for the most part worked just to stay afloat. Often times when he was on break or he was alone at the counter, Simon would message Markus about things he wanted to do to the other man -or the other way around- when he clocked out, and passed many slow days doing such. Otherwise those shifts were boring, but rushes weren't exactly his cup of tea, either.

Trying to explain to a middle aged woman why her coupon for clearance items would not work for the not clearance pair of shoes she was trying to buy, while about several other people were trying to ask him directions to other parts of the store, was really elevating his anxiety levels. He already had trouble enough with confrontation, but as the woman became progressively more aggressive he could feel his heart pounding as he just wished for the conversation to end. But unfortunately he didn't get paid to walk away from irate customers, he had to deal with this mother of three and her snot nosed kids who were making a mess out of clothing racks and couldn't care less about the sneakers she was trying to buy them. It wasn't until she exploded on him that his manager came in to defuse the situation, but by then the damage was done. Simon sat in the back room for a few moments before returning to the floor, hands shaking as he tried to even his breathing. It took all of his strength to recompose himself instead of breaking down, he needed to survive the day to get a better paycheck. After messaging Markus  _ I need you tonight _ Simon took a deep breath and faced the rest of his shift.

The first thing he did when he got home was cry into his pillow, then search his nightstand for his stash and pack his bowl. The pleasant buzz grounded his body and let his head float away, and as he waited for Markus he passed the time by lazily touching himself to thoughts of his healer of his ache. Reaching completion with a choked sob, Simon couldn't escape just how lonely his life was. No friends, no family, just a dead end job and a boy toy with a key to his apartment. He alternated between smoking and jacking off until he felt Markus's presence beside him in bed, and by then he was too far gone to care.

"Looks like you got started without me," he tried to joke, but when Simon didn't respond, he frowned and pet other's blonde hair. "Rough day at work?"

Without verbally confirming it, Simon whined and buried his chest in his companion's chest; Markus smelled clean, he must have had the day off. Sober he knew what they had wasn't love, but he could pretend that their connection went deeper than an obligation between their shared parts. That instead of his musty blankets and creaky box spring, that they lay together in a bed of flowers.

Markus refilled the bowl and took puffs of it until he was thoroughly buzzed himself, Simon occasionally sneaking it to get even more stoned. Sniffling as he was disrobed, Simon didn't even notice in his inebriated state that the other was already stripped down, barely even registering that he was being pressed back and held close. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl as Markus peppered every inch of his ivory skin with sensual kisses, each one causing his skin to tingle and burn. Purposeful hands spread his legs without any resistance, and his own fingers clumsily toyed with the back of Markus's head. "Fuck, baby, please," Simon panted as he writhed under his partner's lips.

"I love how needy you get for me," Markus teased in between kisses to Simon's underbelly, the closest he'd actually get to actually saying love itself; he had so much love to give to parts of Simon, not all of him. As much as Markus cared for the other man, even held affection for him, it was the kind of affection that Simon would dream of at night, Markus couldn't be the knight in shining armor that Simon hoped he would be.

But Markus needed a purpose, and so he would keep going, keep coming back. He sucked Simon's tip into his mouth, then more of the erection down his throat and relished the resulting noises that he elicited from the other. He still has enough of his sense left to give Simon good head; they tended to get sloppier the longer they continued and the more imbibed they became. For hours they fumbled around after Markus sucked him off, even pressing into him with a vigor unbecoming of someone so intoxicated.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, staring into those sad, baby blue eyes that sucked him in. He nuzzled against Simon and as the moon rose in the sky, they became one.

As always, Markus was gone in the morning, as that wasn't part of their arrangement. In all fairness, Simon never asked the man to stay, as much as he wanted to. Both felt too awkward once being together once the sex was over and the marijuana had been all smoked up, fearing the reality of their situation, fearing commitment. Groggily Simon wiped the sleep from his puffy eyes, then vaulted himself out of bed to go check on his sidewalk flowers. From the cracks they still grew, never withering away, but never able to escape from the concrete.


End file.
